Five Short Meditations on the Virgin Mary
(Note: This poem was commissioned by Abdal-Hakim Murad for his essay appearing in th…
There’s a moment so tiny it slips between the
raindrops and clock-ticks
as if it were a strand of silk hanging down
or the shadow of some airborne fluff rising up
So tiny and yet it’s the way out of life and death
as we know it sitting on this hill
It surrounds the celestial city with its slow-motion
comings and goings as if pewter reflecting a sunbeam
were positioned in such a way as to be
directed to our eyes momentarily blinding us
Yet we could grope our way between the verticals
knowing with utter confidence God’s Mercy would
never be depleted as we continuously
head for its horizon almost as if
floating in it
bathed in its
sustaining
11/23/06 (from Invention of the Wheel)
Categories: Poems